


What if...

by starfishies



Category: Amadeus (1984), Ancient History RPF, Classical Music RPF, Historical RPF, Mozart - Fandom, wolfgang amadeus mozart - Fandom
Genre: 21st Century, Classical Music, Composers in the future, F/M, Future, Time Travel, composers, mozart - Freeform, wolfgang amadeus mozart - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-06 03:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10325063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishies/pseuds/starfishies
Summary: What if Mozart was transported as a young man into the 21st century? Somehow ending up in the apartment of a young music major, Mozart is shown around the big city by his horn playing companion. How does he feel about his music, our time and the people today? Random fluff - adult content later on....





	1. Chapter 1

“If you’re coming to my rehearsal this afternoon, you absolutely cannot say anything! You have to sit quietly in the auditorium and pretend like you’re not even there. Do you hear me?” 

“You have my solemn vow.” He said with a rather serious expression, “Even if the musicians are terrible, or you think my professor is an idiot - Not. One. Word. They will kick you out!” I wanted to make sure he knew that I wasn’t messing around. First of all, nobody would believe me if I told them who he was, and secondly - I don’t need him going in there and throwing a tantrum about the music making and thereby making me look like a total fool. “So again, let’s take this from the top shall we?”I grilled him with questions, as we had done several times already - but I wanted to make sure he was ready to take on the barrage of questions I knew he was in for. 

“Who are you ?” Looking at the clock on the top of my piano, I began to shove my books into my knapsack, “Wolfgang” he sighed, clearly irritated with all the preparations I was forcing upon him. “And what school are you from?”

“I am here for the semester, on exchange from the University of….” he stumbled, paused to think, took too long. “Caught!” I groaned, “Dead - you are so dead. You can’t take that long to answer a basic question - any real student can name their school in an instant. It’s the University of Salzburg! Just think, the school located in the town where you are from, nobody will question that. Easy. Continuing on…” He watched me begin to disassemble my horn, unscrewing the bell I noticed his eyes bug out. “What are you doing to that horn?” 

“This?” I looked down at the reflective golden bell flare, “It comes apart for easier storage - see?” I opened the backpack style case, sliding the flare into it’s cushioned cover then I strapped the coiled body of the horn into place. “It all zips up in here! Airline approved - the best thing since the rotary valve.” He ran his hand over the case curiously, “Is it heavy?”

“No - it’s only 27 pounds, it has to meet flight restrictions otherwise I’d have to put it in storage on airplanes and you know that’s not happening.” I scoffed, then realized he had no idea what a plane was let alone how restrictive carry on allowances had become in the last decade. “It’s easier for travel.” I clarified simply and he nodded, clearly more interested in the instrument than my packing needs. 

“Ok so, Wolfgang from the University of Salzburg - that sounds an awful lot like that other guy - you know? The famous one from Salzburg….you know him right?” He grinned, “Yes - my parents named me after him. My father was a violinist from Salzburg and when I was born, he named me after Wolfgang Mozart.” He beamed, having aced that question. “Should I add, the famous Wolfgang Mozart - or simply Wolfgang Mozart?” I laughed and rolled my eyes. 

“You don’t need to gloat - just Wolfgang Mozart - otherwise you sound even weirder than you already are.” I chuckled, slinging my horn case onto my back. “Here. You can carry this, you’ll look more like a student that way.” I handed him my messenger bag, filled with my parts for this afternoon’s rehearsal. He held the canvas strap questioningly, “Do I wear this?” I sighed, was everything going to be like this? Like an adult baby - I am not ready to be a parent!

“Yes - come here…” I lowered the strap over his head, adjusting it across his chest. “There, it’s called a messenger bag. People usually carry laptops in them but they fit a music folder really well too.” He fingered the canvas material of the bag, running his hands over the metal buckles appraising the bags design. “What’s a laptop?” I just shook my head, I’m not going there.

“Ok next question, what instrument do you play and what kind of music do you like?” I grabbed my house keys from the small table by my door, gesturing him to the front hall, “I play piano and violin. My favourite music is…” I opened the door to the front porch and stepped outside, it was late October but thankfully summer was trying it’s damndest to hold on and temperatures had been hovering in the mid teens all week. If we were quick we could catch the next train and be on campus in the next half hour. I would need some time to debrief him before all the other students started showing up. 

Mozart never finished his sentence, standing on the porch he was baffled by the cars and busses whizzing past, cyclists, traffic lights and pedestrians of every description. “Wolfie!” I snapped, jiggling the door closed and latching the lock with my key. Startled, he jumped back to my question, “Oh yes, sorry - um, I like mostly baroque and classical.”

“So far, you are officially boring” I teased as I made my way down the steps to the sidewalk, “And honestly, that’s good because I don’t want them asking too many questions - in case you slip up or do something strange like you know, say you’re Mozart or something. Come on, we have to take the subway let’s hurry.” I walked the single block quickly, dodging through the crowds of teens who had just been dismissed from the high school around the corner. Most were loitering outside the convenience store by the subway entrance. A few were dressed in black clothing with their dyed and spiked hair on full display. Mozart practically ran to catch up with me, “Did you see those men?” he said in a panicked voice. “Who?” I looked around confusedly, digging for change in my pocket and feeding it into the turnstile, “They looked like demons, their hair was….on its end!” He gestured dramatically with his hands, “Oh! The punks outside the convenience store?” The turnstile light turned green and the arm swung open, “You’ll see lots of those guys - don’t worry, they’re just kids.” I pushed him through the entrance and carried on down the stairs marked west for downtown. “Children? Of who? The devil himself?!” he yelped, hesitantly following me down the tiled staircase leading to the platform area.

Thankfully at this time of day the subway was usually lightly travelled so if he was going to have a freak out or say something racially inappropriate, there would be fewer witnesses. I began to second guess my decision to bring him to rehearsal - but where else was I going to put him? I couldn’t just leave him alone in my apartment for 3 hours and let him do whatever. He could wander off, burn the house down or walk out into traffic and get hit by a bus or something. That’s the last thing I need, to be the one responsible for allowing Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart to wander into the street and get hit by a car because I wasn’t looking out for him. Great. Then they’d probably make a sequel to Amadeus, but replace Salieri with me and the end scene would be my trial for not helping Mozart navigate through the “new world” and allowing him to wander onto the highway and get smucked by a dumptruck. The world’s greatest musical tragedy. 

“Here, stand back from the edge and wait. A train is going to come right through this tunnel and stop to pick us up. It’s called the subway.” I explained as if he was a child, he stood by my side clutching the strap that crossed his chest, “What is a train?” Shit. I really should’ve googled more about his time before taking him on the damn subway! He probably wasn’t even alive when trains were invented - according to the screen there was only about 2 minutes until the next one arrived.

“Um….they move people. Lots of people! And they are silver in colour, and they travel on wheels along those tracks down there, do you see them? So when the train comes to this station - it will be very noisy. Actually, I suggest you cover your ears, you won’t like the screeching sounds when it stops.” I looked nervously towards the end of the tunnel to see the headlights ricketing towards us. Oh boy, this would be interesting.

“And...um - when it stops, the doors will open and then we have to get on quickly before they close so stay close ok?” Just as I finished my instructions the train came barreling into the station hissing and grinding, making its sensational appearance right before his terrified eyes. He jumped and covered his ears, looking at me nervously, I knew I couldn’t reassure him over the noise so I just gave him the thumbs up - to which he shrugged his shoulders confusedly. Ya, he doesn’t know thumbs up either. Great.

The door chimes dinged their droopy minor triad and I grabbed his hand and rushed towards the doors before they had time to snap shut. I knew if I left the entry to him, we wouldn’t have made it into the car on time. Seeing there were very few passengers, most of them with headphones or deeply engaged in cell phone games I led him over to an empty bench. “Sit!” I commanded, depositing my horn case onto the floor and pulling him down beside me.

“Ok - so we are travelling west underground right now through a tunnel. When the train stops in 5 stations, we will get off the train and head up the stairs to ground level. That is where my rehearsal is. Got it?” He certainly did not, he was too fascinated by the people on the train, the ads on the walls, the rhythmic sounds of the tracks and then startled by the announcer’s voice crackling over the P.A. “Wolfgang!” I snapped at him, trying to get him to refocus. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes - your rehearsal is above ground. 5 stops.” He stood up on shaking legs to get a closer look at the subway map above the exit door. “Please hold on to the bars” I groaned, that’s the last thing I need, him falling on the subway and knocking someone over or breaking his leg. He gripped the post and squinted at the poster, “Where does this train go?”

“Lots of places - it also connects to other stations and lines, so you can travel in any direction to get all over the city by underground.” I began to check my phone for messages, I had been so busy educating my buddy Mozart that I had hardly kept up with my friends messages from earlier this morning. “What’s for ETA for rehearsal? Meet early for S-bucks?” Jenna. Ugh, not today Jenna - I’ve got some babysitting to do, I thought to myself. She’ll probably ask me why I didn’t respond when she gets to rehearsal though - I’ll need a solid excuse. Eyeing the young composer as he began to read the subway ads I thought to myself, he is my excuse. “What’s a breast implant?” He turned to me after reading an ad for a popular plastic surgeon, I glanced up at the glossy ad in horror, I am not explaining that one! “Nothing important - it’s almost time to for our stop.” The subway slid to a screeching halt and the doors chimed open, this time his hands did not cover his ears, he merely frowned at the sound. “What a dreadful noise!” he hissed, “The brakes? Ya they always squeal as the train stops.” I shrugged as I nudged him out of the car onto the platform, “No - the ringing, a terrible interval!” I chuckled, leave it to Mozart to complain about the door chime intervals “Ya….I’ve always thought that too.”

Heading for the exit, he followed closed behind staring awkwardly at passersby. “Another thing Wolfie, you can’t stare at people. Especially not women - they’ll think you’re a pervert.” He turned to me as we ascended the steps, avoiding the escalators - I would leave that for another day, “A pervert? They are practically undressed, I mean - it’s bad enough that you are dressed in men’s clothing but I must say that I just saw that woman’s …” 

“Me? Men’s clothing? I don’t think so buddy, women can wear pants now - and frankly, whatever they want. You’re going to see a lot of…..skin. That’s fashion, girls can show as much or as little as they want and you’re not allowed to comment. You can get in big trouble if you do, so just keep it to yourself, got it?” He nodded sheepishly, sensing that topic was not up for further discussion. As we reached street level and stepped out into the sun I knew this would be tricky, to get from the station, across the intersection to the campus. The downtown streets were far busier, people shoving past us to get to the subway, business people with briefcases, delivery workers with boxes of goods - he was for sure going to get lost. “Here, take my hand. I don’t want you to get separated.” He looked taken aback at the request, “Take my hand!” I reached for his fingers, annoyed at his hesitation “Come on - it’s not a marriage proposal, it’s just so you don’t get lost between here and the faculty.” I grabbed his hand before he could resist and made a beeline for the music building. Despite the history professor I was dragging with me, I was still making good time.

Walking into the music building, I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d made it without losing him, or getting him killed. Perfect. “Alright, this is the faculty of music. Everyone in this building is studying music, whether it’s an instrument or composing or….I don’t even know what some people do here. Let’s just get to the rehearsal, ok?”

Walking through the lobby to towards the staircase that would take us downstairs to the auditorium I was stopped by Jenna, of course, with her Starbucks. “Liv! There you are!” she bounded towards me, oh no. “Didn’t you get my message? Oh maybe you were on the subway - anyway, I -” she broke mid sentence to look towards Mozart who was standing a few feet behind, wide eyed and terrified. “Who’s this?”

“Oh….that’s Wolfgang - he’s uh, subletting a room at my place for the semester. A music major.” Whew, totally believable. Jenna eyed him suspiciously, “Wolfgang?” she chuckled, “Like Mozart Wolfgang?”

“I was named after him!” Mozart stepped forward, oh no. He engaged. 

Jenna lit up, “Really? That’s so cool, where are you on exchange from? What do you play?” My stomach began to knot, why was Jenna so nosey? Jesus. Ok Wolfie, just like rehearsal...

“Uh, Salzburg - I play piano.” Mozart paused and looked to me for confirmation, I nodded in encouragement, “....um...and violin!” I sighed, checking my phone pretending to notice the time, “Oh jeez Jenna - we have to go, I’ve got a rehearsal and I haven’t picked up my music from the repertoire library yet.” Lies. “So….catch you later?” Lies again. 

“Oh ya - no problem. Hey maybe we can all hang out later?” She said, continuing to watch Mozart as he wandered towards the gallery featuring huge paintings of former faculty deans. “Ya - um, just text me or something!” I called over my shoulder as I strode over to Mozart, “Psst!” I hissed at him, “Let’s go!” He stepped quickly to rejoin me and we finally made it to the stairs towards the auditorium. 

“Auf Wiedersehen!” Jenna called across the lobby towards us as we disappeared down the stairs, Wolfgang turned his head to see her waving at him. “She speaks German?” He asked in a quiet whisper. “No. That’s probably the only thing she knows - she thinks she’s being cute. Or friendly...I don’t know. Maybe she likes you.” He smiled to himself but didn’t answer, I simply rolled my eyes.

“Alright, you sit here at the back. If you get bored, you can doodle, or read one of my books or compose something I don’t care. Just don’t leave, and don’t talk - very important.” He nodded, sitting down in the back row of the theatre while I unpacked my horn, attaching the bell and placing the mouthpiece just so. “And my music?” I asked, looking at the messenger bag suggestively, “Oh right! Here you are!” He dug through the bag and extracted the stack of parts, leafing through them curiously. Gran Partita, he paused on that one and stared at it for a moment before recognizing the notation. “This is mine”

“Yes.”

“The wind serenade” He said softly with melancholy

“Yes.”

“You’ll perform this piece? All movements?” His large eyes looked up hopefully at me as he handed the work over.

“Eventually - but today is only rehearsal. We won’t play every movement today - just bits and pieces.”

He grinned, “People still play my music, how astonishing!” he marveled, “More than you know, but remember please, I’m begging you, say nothing. No matter what. You can tell me how much we butchered it after, but only when it’s just you and me. And if Jenna tries to talk you at break - just say you have to go to the bathroom.”

“Will she talk to me?” He asked hopefully, “No - she’s a trumpet player so she won’t be at this rehearsal. However, she has a way of conveniently running into people.”

With that, several members of the wind band made their way into the theatre, coffees in hand - chatting amongst themselves. I nodded in acknowledgement to them as they began to unpack and assemble their instruments. Bassoons, clarinets, flutes - Mozart was enthralled with it all. When our lead flute player Amanda began her warm-up with a 3 octave chromatic scale as break-neck speed, Mozart was in awe. “Is that a modern flute?”

“Shh! What did I tell you! No talking - and yes. But no questions. You’ll sound like a lunatic. Ok, I am going on stage now, rehearsal will begin when Dr.John gets here to conduct - until I come back to get you, you don’t move. Your lips are sealed.” Tucking my horn under my arm and grabbing the pile of sheet music I turned towards him and raised my eyebrows threateningly.

He nodded, sinking back in the chair watching the band assemble before him on stage. With minutes to the downbeat, the conductor burst through the door - followed closely by her assistant, some graduate student studying conducting. I can’t remember his name, but he was rather forgettable anyway. 

“Ok guys let’s get this going - Largo movement please. Oboes let’s get an A now.” She untucked her thin framed glasses and placed them low on her nose as she flipped her score open to the correct page. Our oboist steadied a pitch for us, and the woodwinds snapped up like soldiers, diving in several at a time - sounding the tuning note, adjusting as necessary. A second pitch was sounded for the horns and double bass, I picked off a few concert notes and then left it at that. This was going to be a long rehearsal, I needed to focus and with Mr.Composer back there I felt extra pressure. I could see him at the back of the hall, resting his arms on the seat in front of him, his chin propped up on his forearms. He was practically glued to the events so far.

“Alright - in 4….” Dr.John raised her arms and the room fell mystically silent before the first chord, breathing as a unit, we began.

As the rehearsal drew on, I forgot about my little friend at the back of the hall, I took that as a good sign. No outbursts, no sudden appearances, no news is good news? As soon as Dr.John closed her score and thanked us for today’s work I practically leapt off the stage and bounded towards the seat Wolfgang was quietly occupying. “Ok let’s go - quick before anyone here stops to talk to us.” I ripped my equipment apart as quickly as I could manage, not noticing his complete silence. Either he had taken my threats very seriously, or something was wrong. “Hey! Wolfgang!” I slowed my packing to look over at him, “Are you ok?” He wiped his cheek and nodded, “Are you….are you crying? What’s wrong?” I started to panic, don’t make a scene buddy, don’t do it. “That was more beautiful than I could have imagined it.” He said quietly and I frowned, “Really?...It was just a rehearsal!” I shrugged and zipped up my case, “Here, take this” I passed my repacked messenger bag to him, “Let’s go eat.”

Taking him through the on campus greenspace, cutting through the faculty of law and into the downtown core he started chatting about the rehearsal. Providing me notes on every last detail, “The intonation was surreal, how do you get the winds in tune like that? They must all be world class players!” I grinned to myself, a compliment from the master himself? Knowing it was more to do with modern enhancements of our instruments than with our mastery, I still felt a surge of pride at having impressed him. “Well, I think that probably has to do with our instruments being largely improved from what was available in your day. But thanks for the compliment anyway, I’ll share your thoughts with my buddies.”

Stopping at the hole in the wall diner just off campus, I held the door for him, “Here come on, I don’t have anything to eat at home so dinner is on me.” He looked questioningly at the establishment and I pushed him forward, “Go!” I followed him in, shaking my head. “Right there - the table in the corner at the back.” He obeyed and walked through the tables and chairs straight to the back of the restaurant. A waitress with many dishes nearly knocked right into him and he sputtered, “I apologize...I…”

“It’s alright hun, just passing by!” She grunted and carried on, “Oh my god - just sit down!” I hissed, throwing my bags in the corner by the table. “I’ll be with you guys in a minute.” The server called to us as she came back our way.

“Ok before she gets here with the menus, listen - just ask for water. It’s a normal thing to do. Got it? Water.” I said lowly, staring him down with a serious look. “Alright, what can I get you?” the server was flipping through her order book, clicking her pen, “Water” Wolfgang smiled up at her and she paused, noticing his large grey eyes, “Have I met you before?” she quizzed, “Not likely!” I interjected, “He’s uh….he’s here on exchange from Austria.” 

“That’s really far away no? Anyway, what would you like hun?” Mozart looked to me, then back to her. “Food Wolfgang - what do you want to eat?” I kicked him gently under the table, he shook his head in confusion, completely bewildered. “You know what? Can we just have a pizza? That’s probably easiest, just a pepperoni pizza.” The waitress popped her gum lazily and jotted the order down. “Gotcha.” She flipped the book shut and smiled at Mozart, “Welcome to town.” He smiled back at her as she cleared our menus.

As soon as she was gone, I exhaled, he was driving me crazy - what am I going to do with him? “Wolfgang, do you know what pizza is?” He shrugged, “It’s food, Italian I guess. Well, not really, everybody eats it. You’ll like it I think.” While we waited for our food he began chatting about all the things he had seen during our subway trip, the rehearsal and the walk over here. I tried to answer as many questions as I could, sometimes just glossing over things not wanting to explain 200 years worth of science and technology. “And a female conductor! Imagine it!” He was enamoured with Dr.John, a middling woman with silver hair and an acid sense of humour. She could rip you a new one just as soon as weave the most beautiful music from you. I loved her, definitely a star of our teaching faculty. “She’s great - you’d love her.” I interrupted him, “And females do everything now, compose, conduct, perform, manage. All the things men do.” 

“I don’t know if I would love her.” He emphasized love, “Oh, ha! That’s just what we say now when you appreciate somebody. We say love. I didn’t mean romantically, she’s a little old for you. Say, how old are you anyway?” I sat back as the waitress slipped the pizza tray onto our table between us.

“25 - I just finished that wind serenade earlier this year.” I stared down at the pizza, raising an eyebrow at it. “Me too!” I slid a steaming piece onto his plate, “You composed a wind serenade as well?” He lit up, “Oh, no I meant, I am also 25.” I snorted, “I don’t write music - I just play it.”

“So welcome to pizza, a staple of the student diet!” I grinned - this was going to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mozart had serious indigestion on the subway ride back home from the pizza place. He was squished in between two commuters, jostling back and forth as the car rolled and stopped, he looked a little queasy. “Are you going to make it?” I made a face, please don’t throw up on me. Or anyone else for that matter…

“I feel terrible - what was in that food?” He hiccuped, clutching his middle trying to nurse himself pathetically. “Cheese. It was probably the cheese.” Maybe a greasy spoon was not the best choice for Mozart’s first 21st century restaurant meal but I figured pizza suited a variety of palettes, how could I go wrong?

“We had cheese where I am from and it didn’t make me feel like this….” he whined, gripping the post to steady himself as the train screeched to a stop at our station, “Ok this is us, quick or you’ll get left behind.” I nudged my horn case into his backside in an effort to push him out the door before the chimes sounded. Once on the safety of the platform, I swung it over my back and nodded towards the escalator, “It’s time you learned what these are….” If Mozart was going to be with me for next little while, he’d better learn about some of my favourite inventions which included escalators, elevators and generally anything that made life easier.

Approaching cautiously he watched as I stepped onto the moving stairs and began to move upwards, “It’s called an escalator. Very fun!” He shook his head in refusal, “I am not putting any part of my body on that contraption.” Stepping off at the top of the escalator, I called down to him with my arms crossed, “Fine - the stairs are right there. Do it the old fashioned way.” Turning back to check out the latest symphony concert poster which had been plastered on the pale tile wall, I noticed what was on this week, “The MasterWorks Series” which featured Beethoven, Schubert and Mozart. Perhaps something we can do tomorrow, I’ll bet he’d like to hear more of his music. When I turned back towards the escalator I nearly shrieked in surprise when Wolfgang was standing directly behind me, “Jesus!” I jumped, “I took the moving stairs.” he grinned and placed his hands on his hips defiantly, “Because I am certainly not old fashioned - as you put it.”

“That’s debatable” I snorted at the irony of that statement, “I’m glad you’re braver than you look. Let’s go, home is this way…” We walked along the short block back to my apartment in relative silence, I was renting the main floor of an old Victorian in a quieter neighbourhood. The rent was cheap and the commute was easy so what more could I have asked for? I couldn’t stand to live in residence, I just hated other people too much and at this point, as a grad student - I just didn’t want to be near those freshmen anymore. My landlady lived in the attached house on the other side, an introvert’s dream as she was an elderly Chinese lady who only spoke about 5 words of English; rent, quiet, nice girl, noisy, piano. She didn’t know the English word for French Horn so whenever she saw me leave the house she would mime a trumpet, point at my case and smile. I think she enjoyed having a music student renting next door because it reminded her of her own children who had gone off now, but both played violin for their entire childhoods. 

What sold me on the rental was the piano in the front room, probably about 1,000 years old but it still worked and she agreed to have it tuned twice a year during my stay. This was a huge draw for me as most landlords turned my application down as soon as I began asking about their practicing rules…..as it turned out, Wolfgang appreciated the piano as well. He had already been playing this afternoon and was ecstatic to learn the use of its sustain and damper pedals. Modern miracles of course. “I must write something for this instrument immediately!” 

While unlocking the door, my landlady noticed Wolfgang standing on the porch behind me, “Oh! Boy! Boy!” She waved and smiled, make that - 6 words - I noted. “Yes hello Mrs.Wong - nice to see you….” I said in my best friendly voice as I shoved the heavy door open, “Bye now!” I waved her off and pulled Mozart inside.

“Who was that?” He peered out the small window in the front door, trying to catch a glimpse of my landlady who was still on her porch, “My landlady - Mrs.Wong. She is very nice, but doesn’t know any English. If she ever says hello, just wave back and keep walking.”

I plopped onto the couch and threw my legs up with a sigh, Wolfgang stood idly in the middle of the living room looking about. “You can sit down if you like, how’s your stomach feeling?” He wandered over to inspect some of my pictures, concert programs from various events I had played and my collection of novels. “It’s much better after the short walk...thank you.” He said absently as he cocked his head sideways to better read the spines of the music textbooks. “Those are from my undergrad days - you might find something of interest in there. One is probably about you.” I got up, thumbing through the titles then selecting a Mozart biography that I had purchased when I was writing a history paper for second year historical survey. “Here - your life and times. You can read it and tell me if it’s even accurate.”

I flicked on the TV as he sat down with the book, but he nearly dropped it before even opening the cover. “What in God’s name is that?” he grew pale looking at the TV with its bright colours and flashing images. “Are there people inside of that?” 

“No - it’s all just images. Moving pictures….with real people, but the people aren’t inside of there. I….” I was stumped, how the hell do I explain TV? “It’s for entertainment you know?” He stood and walked right up to the TV, touching the screen with the tips of his fingers as if he was afraid it may burn or shock him. “How does it work?”

“Well, people collect images using something called a camera - then all of those images are put into our TV for us to see. Everybody has a TV, it’s been around for a long time.” I handed him the remote, “Look you can change the subject - if you don’t like this show, you can watch something else. There are shows about everything you can imagine.” He took the controller inquisitively, pressing the buttons at random. I grinned watching him marvel as the stations flipped erratically, my educational moment was interrupted when my phone began to ring. Jenna. Fuck.

“Hey Jenna - what’s up?” I answered with pretend interest, “Party? I don’t remember…” Wolfgang continued to flip, flip, now he’s found the volume ...uh oh, “One minute Jenna - hold on” I placed my hand over the speaker to cover my voice, “HEY! Turn that down!” I snatched the remote and muted the TV, handing it back to him as I returned to Jenna.

“Are you OK over there?” she asked, “Oh ya - no problem, the exchange kid just turned the TV up really loud and didn’t know how to turn it down again….sorry, what were you talking about before?”

“Our party - just the grad students, you said you would come. You can even bring the new guy.” She coaxed, sensing my plan to reject. “Come on! It’ll be fun and he probably needs to meet new friends right? Do it for his sake…..” I looked over at Mozart who had now somehow gotten the remote open and was picking at the batteries, “Ya ok - I’ll see you later.” I hung up on her and flew off the couch and grabbed the remote, snapping it back together and tossing it on the couch. “Nevermind that - we are going out, so let’s get you ready.”

“Out?” He glanced at the TV then back to me, “Where?”

“To a party.” I grunted, switching the TV off, “A music nerd party, you’ll be with your own kind.” I kidded, though the joke was lost. “You’ll need to shower and change into something less….borrowed.” The school sweater and jeans rolled up at the ankle looked a little too ramshackle to pass muster with my friends, if he was going to fit in he’d have to look the part. “Come on, we’ll have to stop somewhere on our way. Let’s get this started.” Ok, get him cleaned up, hit the subway, stop at the GAP or something pick up some jeans and tshirt then he’ll be ready to go. “This is the bathroom, with a shower - which you will use to wash your hair….and body.” 

“A bath”

“Of sorts….like a standing up bath. Where the water falls on you.” I turned the tap to hot and waited for the water to heat, showing him how the water fell from the shower head, sticking my own hand under the stream. “See?” He stepped closer, putting a hand under the warm water.  
“So how does the water get from in there to me?” He asked curiously, “You stand inside of here, and the water falls on you.” He looked at me in shock, “I stand in….there?” peeking around the curtain he chuckled, “Until when?”

“As long as you like. But you’ll have to wash your hair and stuff so probably like….15 minutes?” I selected my least feminine shampoo and opened the lid passing it towards him, “Smell - it’s soap.”  
He took the bottle and waved it under his nose and smiled, “It smells lovely, does it work?”

I was baffled, “Excuse me?” blinking in confusion, “Do you mean, does it clean or something? Of course it works! It’s soap! Just make sure you rinse it out and don’t get it in your eyes.” Pulling a stack of towels from under the sink I checked my phone again, “Ok, 15 minutes - if you’re not out by then, I’ll come check on you alright?” He turned back towards the shower which was now steaming, “Yes.” 

I backed away slowly, closing the door cautiously. Hopefully he figures it out. During this time I ran to my room and dug through the piles of clothes looking for something to wear, skinny jeans? Makeup? Should I straighten my hair? Not enough time….I set a timer on my phone to make sure I remembered to check on him before I started to dig for the mate to the pair of heeled boots I had decided to go with. 

When the timer rang my mascara was still wet and my hair was a mess but I knew I had to check on him, “Wolfie?” I called with bobby pins in my teeth, no answer. “Wolfgang…..” I said louder, maybe he just didn’t hear me. Hearing nothing I rolled my eyes and threw the last of my hair up into a messy bun and tromped over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly. “We have to go soon - are you ready?” I stepped back feeling something wet touch my toe, looking down I saw a small stream of bubbly water trickle out from under the door. “Ok Mozart I’m opening the door so you’d better be dressed” I sighed, throwing open the door to see a disastrous scene. There were bubbles. Everywhere. My landlady was going to kill me. I was going to kill him. “What the?....” I stood with my mouth agape, Mozart shrugged sheepishly as he continued trying to scoop the bubbles with his hands back into the tub which was overflowing with water.

“Ah!” I ran into the bathroom and fished my hand down to the drain, pulling the plug free and shutting the water off. “I started to notice the water was filling up but I did not know if that was normal but then I realized the water was going everywhere and I could not stop the flow of it.” He explained apologetically, “I am sorry.” he muttered, to which I only grumbled. “I’ll get a mop…..”

After spending half an hour cleaning up the bathroom fiasco, it left no time for us to stop for clothes on the way to Jenna’s so I simply left him with his outfit from earlier that day, it would have to do. “At least you smell good.” I said, putting on my leather jacket and scarf, “Here - you can wear this….” It was a light wool peacoat I had bought years back from Value Village and never really worn. Nobody would know it was a woman’s coat and he was small enough that it worked. “It’ll be colder now that the sun has gone down.” He had been rather quiet since the water incident and I couldn’t say I minded, the constant stream of questions was starting to wear me out.

“This is going to be a weird party, probably with alcohol. Just stay close to me and if somebody asks you if you want a shot, say no.” Locking the door and taking off for the subway I walked much faster this time, forcing him to practically jog to keep up. He managed to follow without complaint. Once we were on the subway car headed east to Jenna’s, I put in my headphones and turned on my playlist. Mozart watched curiously as I scrolled through my phone and selected the music and hit play. Noticing my relative lack of patience, he simply sat beside me, people watching in silence. When it came time to exit, I stood silently and he followed suit, disembarking like a seasoned transit rider.

“Alright Wolfgang, while we’re walking to Jenna’s let me explain a few things first. One, Jenna lives with her boyfriend Matt who is a piano player. He thinks he is God’s gift to music and that he knows everything about….well everything.” 

“I take it that you don’t agree?” He chuckled, keeping pace with me as we walked through the crisp night air, “No. He’s an idiot. But don’t tell him I said that - Jenna would kill me. Secondly, at these parties, usually people get pretty drunk and play various musical games and try to show off their skills. Please refrain from participating, it would be too suspicious. Just politely decline if asked.”

“Oh, and lastly. Stay away from the girls, drunk girls can get pretty sloppy - don’t get left alone with anyone. Again, just stick near me and you’ll be fine.” Turning to him for confirmation he simply smiled, “I’ve been to parties before you know….”

“Not quite like this.”

Once inside Jenna quickly rushed us to welcome us and take our coats. “Oh Liv I love this jacket, so vintage. Hot!” 

“Ya - thanks. Got it cheap too…” I nudged Mozart and took his jacket as well, “Here - take his too.” Jenna piled them on her arms and lead us into the living room where at least a dozen or so people were crammed around a baby grand that took up more than half of the room. Matt of course was sitting center stage, enrapturing his guests with some showy cadenza. “Oh Matt’s just playing a bit of one of the pieces he’s working on right now. He’s been asked to arrange something for the opera class.” Mozart’s interest was immediately peaked and he began to walk into the living room to join the spectacle but I grabbed his wrist forcefully, “Psst!” I hissed at him, “Remember what I said. Do not engage!” His eyes wide, he nodded. When the last chord faded the room erupted in thunderous applause, “Ya Matt!” somebody hooted and girls tossed their hair. “Beautiful job Matt!” I headed straight for a bowl of chips that had been abandoned during the impromptu concert, “Here Wolfie, try these - you might like them.”

“Hey there Liv!” I cringed slightly when I heard his macho voice over my shoulder, “Matt…” I feigned interest, turning towards him blocking the chip bowl. “How are you?” I asked boringly, “Oh great you know, don’t know if you heard some of my work just there. A little something I have been working on for Professor John’s opera course.”

“Right….ya. I did hear a little bit at the end there…” Glancing back over my shoulder I saw Mozart was right into the chips, clearly Salt and Vinegar were his thing. “Jenna said this is a new guy or something? From Austria?” Matt nodded towards Wolfgang who was too busy eating chips to notice.

“Ya - that’s true, he’s here on exchange.”

“She said he plays piano - is he gonna play tonight?”

“No…..no….I don’t think so….” My eyes darted back over to Wolfgang, who was still oblivious to our conversation, “Hey Mozart!” Matt called with a ting of sarcasm, Wolfgang’s head snapped up at the sound of his name. “Hey buddy! You’re the guy named after Mozart who plays piano ya?”

Wolfgang looked at me for help, and I nodded to him, “That’s correct.” He wiped his hand on pants and stepped forward towards Matt, reaching to shake an introduction. Matt rudely declined, “Ya pardon me, but I never shake. Piano hands you know?” He said arrogantly, Mozart nodded slowly, obviously registering for himself what a jackass Matt truly was. “I also play piano.” Mozart said quietly, “But I shake hands.” Matt grinned, sensing an opportunity to showboat once again. “You going to play tonight?”

“Oh Matt - I don’t think -” I began to interject and he cut me off, “Everybody plays, it’s a rule.” Matt prodded him. Mozart looked to me then back to Matt, “I’d be happy to.” Damn it, Fucking Matt.

“Perfect.” Matt slapped Mozart’s shoulder in an aggressive show of challenge accepted. “Step right up my friend. She’s a beaut - a 1927 Steinway baby grand direct from Germany.” Mozart slid behind the bench with a giddy looking expression, people began to whisper. “Who is that guy?” I could hear, “Is he new?”

“Friends! Listen up! Our new buddy Wolfgang - named after the great one himself - has agreed to play for us tonight. Something of his choice, let’s give this newbie a round of applause for stepping up shall we?” Matt dramatically announced to the room. People applauded politely, and the room fell silent in curiousity of this new musician, was he any good?

“What should I play?” He asked to the crowd that had gathered nearby, “Anything man - why don’t you play something by your namesake?” Matt scoffed, doubting anyone could best his own miraculous work. “Certainly…” Mozart bit his bottom lip, thinking of his options before raising his hands above the keys and diving into the wicked finale section of Jeune Homme. His hands flew effortlessly across the keys playing with such lightness that people stopped mid conversation just to turn and listen. Matt narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw in annoyance. “Not happy to have another pianist in the room eh Matt?” My bassoonist buddy Tyler chided with the host, knowing Matt would be fuming if he was to be shown up in his own home. 

“Ya he’s got skill. But really, Jeune Homme? Pick an easier piece buddy….” Matt scoffed as the guests clapped wildly for Wolfgang who had stood at the bench to bow and receive their accolade. Matt began to clap exaggeratingly above everyone else, “Bravo! Bra - vo…..Ready for the next challenge?” Matt’s voice silenced everyone, Mozart stopped with one hand on the edge of the piano gently, not knowing whether he should leave or stay.

“Who wants to see a variation contest?’ Matt raised a bottle of rum above his head and everybody cheered. Oh god. “Ok ok….I’ll go first buddy, just so you get an idea.” Matt strode over to the piano, pouring himself a shot and downing it in front of the crowd.

“Variation one.” He winked at Mozart who stood beside the piano, watching him play a short theme with a simple variation. “Got it? Now your turn.” Matt slid the shot glass over to Wolfgang who eyed the brown liquid before shrugging and tossing it back with a face. Matt laughed and made room for the smaller man on the bench. Mozart sat staring at the keys for a moment then proceeded to repeat the theme and modulated into a heartbreakingly beautiful lullaby variation that left the guests breathless. You could hear a pin drop when the damper pedal was released and the cables stopped singing. “Round 2?” He said turning to Matt who was running his hands through his hair nervously, he was definitely rethinking this showdown.

“Ya - ok round 2 rules - no slow variations. Quick tempi this time ya?” Matt took his second shot and burst into a fiery rondo variation that had the guests cheering for him, “Me?” Mozart pointed to the shot glass, and took his second hit. “Quick… got it.” He sprung into a breakneck flurry of scales and arpeggios whizzing about so fast and clever that even I was amazed, and I knew him!

“Ok - so what is it, tied so far?” Matt laughed nervously and the audience groaned, “Nah, ok - next challenge, winner takes all. Blindfolded! Whadda say Wolfie buddy?” Matt slapped Mozart’s back causing him to jump a little, “Jenna! Get something for a blindfold we got a contest going on in here!”

Much to Matt’s shock and disappointment, Mozart continued to play circles around him all evening and it seemed, the more inebriated he got, the stronger his playing became. By midnight Mozart was the king of the party and Matt had practically drank himself right under his own piano.

“Ok Mr.Piano-man, it’s time to go.” I nudged Wolfgang while he was taking a short break to grab more chips, he’d practically eaten the entire bowl. “Really? But I’m having a lot of fun.” I frowned, already exhausted and thinking about the long subway ride home. “I know you are but I’m really tired and we still have a long ride back home. I’m sure Matt is tired too…” Gesturing towards the man who had slid halfway off the bench and was struggling to right himself back at the keyboard in a drunken haze. “Come on - I promise you can come to the next party and I’ll let you stay as long as you want but please, I am so tired…..” I begged, taking his hand in an attempt to turn him back from the piano. He stopped and looked down at the contact with a smile, “Please?” I begged, not caring if he got the wrong idea or not - at this point I just needed to get him out the damn door. He conceded and allowed me to pull him towards the pile of coats at the door. “Here, try to find our coats while I call an Uber.”

Mozart dug through the pile sloppily, clearly having lost some of his motor skill throughout the evening. He did however manage to pull out my jacket and was holding it out for me. “Thanks…” I said, slipping my arms in. He turned back to the pile staring down at it in confusion. There were many wool coats in there and it was dark, I watched him cautiously as he blinked a few times and then swayed a bit before completely falling over. “Oh god! Get up, stand up!” I pulled on his arm, trying to help him regain his balance. My phone lit up, “Ok up! The car is here.” Practically dragging him outside, I hoped the fresh air would wake him up a bit. “Alright watch the stairs, careful…” I threw his arm over my shoulders and grabbed his side to steady him. He giggled drunkenly and leaned heavily onto me. “I’m sorry I’m so useless right now…” He grunted as I opened the back door to the waiting car and shoved him unceremoniously in. “Don’t thank me til we’re home….” I hopped in and shut the door, Mozart leaned his head against the cool glass of the passenger window clearly too drunk to even care what a car was or where we were going.

By the time I got him up the steps to my door, with special thanks to my Uber driver, five stars to him, I was totally wrecked. Mozart stumbled to my couch and fell face first down onto the cushions. “Ya, I guess you can sleep there….” I sighed, pulling his shoes off. He turned on his side to face me, “Am I a good pianist?” He slurred, “Did you like my music?” I ignored him and started trying to remove his jacket. He sat up suddenly, “Liv - did you like my music?” he asked very seriously, holding my hands still. “Yes of course I did. I always do.” He smiled lazily and fell back on the couch, “Good.” He murmured against a pillow that he was clutching.

“Alright - you stay here tonight and I’ll be in the next room ok?” I called from the hallway, “Ok?” I repeated, poking my head back into the living room but hearing only soft snores I took that as a yes. “Good night Wolfie…”


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning I lay in what can only be explained as a semiconscious haze, unsure as to whether I was dreaming or in fact living in some surreal universe in which the world's most famous composer was tinkering on the defunct upright piano in my front room. Glancing at the clock on my bedside table bleary eyed, I registered that it was only 5 am. Falling back on my pillow I sighed, this babysitting thing was really wiping me out. Dragging myself out of bed and wrapping myself in an old housecoat I trudged sleepily down the dark hall to the front room, noting that as I approached the sound of the piano softened. "I didn't mean to wake you." Wolfgang sat at the old piano in the dim light of the early morning, having elected to change back to his own clothing of white stockings, breeches buttoned at the knee and a linen shirt neatly tucked behind a plain waist coat. It was a startling contrast to the hoodie and jeans I had dressed him in out of desperation yesterday, I couldn't exactly have him wandering through the campus looking like a historical interpreter. 

"Nice outfit" I grumbled, wiping sleep from my eyes and he frowned. Deep in the recesses of my mind I remembered doing some Mozart research as an undergrad and had noted that he was particularly fashion conscious. I'm sure he was all too aware at Jenna and Matt's party last night that most men his age were wearing nothing that even closely resembled what he was used to. "Man tights went out of style about 200 years ago" I eyed his stockings with a raised eyebrow, in turn he looked me up and down, taking in my current state. Obviously I was not in a position to throw stones in my lavender housecoat and flannel pyjamas, "Well I'm not exactly sure that you're the expert to consult on fashion..." he raised his eyebrows at me with a sassy grin, "Excuse me!" I said in mock offense but knowing the truthfulness in that phrase I took it as a joke, "Well, in any case I didn't come out here to discuss your taste in clothing - I'll have you know that it's only 5 am and any normal person would still be asleep at this hour so if you are going to continue your music, you'll have to do it silently. I am going back to bed and I suggest you do the same." Padding back towards my room barefoot, I left him at the piano, to his own devices. Laying in bed, listening to see if the tinkering continued, but he must've understood and the house fell silent once again - so I contentedly fell back asleep, pleased that I could shut my eyes for a few extra hours. 

Waking up with a crash and bang from the kitchen, I bolted upright. The bedside clock flashed 9 am, shit! I had left him alone for 4 hours, who knows what he is getting into out there? Throwing back the covers and slipping on my trusted housecoat once again, I jogged out to the kitchen to see a disaster. A clever little man, he had created some toasting contraption that skewered and held bread above the gas flame of the stove - how he even figured out how to turn it on was a wonder, let alone how he hadn't yet burned the house down. The pile of pots and pans scattered on the tile floor told me he had opened the cupboards in search of cooking tools, and of course they had all come flying out at once. 

"Wolfgang! What are you doing?!" I yelped, turning off the gas to the stove in a panic, "If you're trying to make toast that's what we have a toaster for!" He shrugged and plucked the singed piece of bread off of his skewer, "This works perfectly well." 

"Except we don't cook over open flames anymore! You could have started a fire or something...." I eyed the rest of the mess and noticed that he had found the jam, judging by the smears of purple jelly on the counter. "At least you fed yourself..." I muttered, wiping up the mess. "I'm actually quite impressed myself!" He smiled genuinely, offering the last piece of toast to me, "Madame?" Making a face I declined, "Uh, no thanks. I'm not much of a breakfast person."

"Next time, use this." I pulled the toaster out to the edge of the counter and plopped a piece of bread into the silver slot and pressed the toggle down. "It will toast the bread and then when it is finished, it will pop up and you can take it out. Much easier than....all of this.." I gestured wearily at the mess he had created in his toasting shenanigans. "How incredible!" He watched the red coils heat up and begin to toast the bread inside, "Is it dangerous?" 

"No - just don't stick your fingers, or anything other than bread in there....you might get a shock." The toast finished just as I mentioned the risk of electrocution and the golden brown square popped up right before his eyes, which startled him and caused him to jump back. "Oh dear!" 

"You're fine - it's supposed to do that." I carefully picked the burning hot toast from the slot and lay it on the counter. "Mission one for today - get you a modern wardrobe. So finish up whatever it is you need here because I've got to take you shopping. If you're going to be around me for the next little while, you cannot wear....this stuff." I gestured at his breeches, "I'm not even sure how that's comfortable but with our weather, you're going to freeze if you keep wearing shorts."

"I don't know what shorts are, but I am certainly more comfortable in this than in what I had yesterday."   
I sighed, "You may be more comfortable in those, but you look like," I wanted to say the word ridiculous but I didn't want to make him feel diminished, "Like you're from a different time." I said diplomatically, "People will notice. Then they'll ask questions - then we'll both be declared insane!" 

"Let me get dressed and we'll take the subway downtown, there are lots of great shops for men now and I'm sure we can find something you'll like." I called over my shoulder, heading for the shower. While washing my hair I began to think of the clothing possibilities for Wolfgang, he was rather short and a little on the small side. Definitely a good look for hipster gear, would he go for that? Maybe he's more of a sweater and khaki kind of personality, but maybe that's too old school. As much as I was embarrassed to admit it, I kind of liked the 18th century look. Men in well tailored jackets, nipped in at the waist with high collars and those tight breeches really showed off their...well everything. Period costumes were kind of my thing, but really they were completely impractical and definitely out of place now. Those fantastical costumes just wouldn't work for the modern woman, wearing stiff corsets and hoops, despite how beautiful they always looked in my music history textbooks.  
Shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my hair and then another around myself. I'd have to come back when the mirror had cleared to do my hair, walking out mid-thought I nearly bumped right into him. "Mozart!" I yelped clutching my towel. Seeing me wrapped up in the plush blue fabric elicited a deep rose blush and he dropped his eyes to the floor sheepishly, "I'm sorry - I..." he stammered awkwardly and side stepped, clearing the way to my room, "I'll be out in a minute once I dry my hair, just hold on." I marched briskly past him and slammed my door. That was close.   
Once I had properly finished my hair and thrown on some leggings and a knit top, I was ready to hit the road, having all but forgotten the near accident in the hall earlier. "Alright we will take the subway, you're getting pretty good at that." I passed him the same dark wool peacoat from the previous night and he nodded silently, still having difficulty meeting my eyes. Zipping up my leather jacket and wrapping a scarf around my neck I raised an eyebrow at him as he stood looking down at the floor, shifting from one foot to another. "What's going on with you?" 

"Nothing, nothing..." he balked awkwardly, I leered at him trying to figure out what was going through his mind. Was this about the towel incident, it's not like he saw me naked or anything! "Here you'll need this" I wrapped a plain grey scarf around his neck and tucked it into the lapels of the navy jacket, it actually looked rather smart on him, I smiled proudly at my little outfit. "Cute." I smoothed his jacket out where I had tucked the scarf in and grinned at the combination. He looked up from under his lowered lashes with a small smile but remained silent as I threw my purse over my shoulder, "Ok let's go." He obeyed, shoving his hands into the pockets and following silently a few steps behind me. Only once we were finally on the train, he began to speak.

"So, are those trousers popular for ladies now?" he nodded towards my black leggings, "I suppose they are, why?" I picked at a few stray pieces of lint that had stuck to my knee, "No reason. They just seem to be .....everywhere." He leaned back against the plastic bench and fixed his gaze straight ahead on a poster ad for a dental clinic. I looked around the subway car and noticed several women wearing similar outfits to my own. It's true, they were very popular. "Yep, girls love them. They are really comfortable, and they make your.......well. They are flattering." I left it at that, "Indeed" He folded his hands together on his lap and grinned, keeping his eyes forward. I rolled my eyes and popped my headphones in, I guess 18th century men were really no different than their modern counterparts.

When we reached the station for the mall, we hopped off and climbed the stairs up to the concourse level. Wolfgang was immediately struck by the throngs of people going every which way. "Yes, the mall on a Saturday. A popular place, try not to lose me." I walked through several parties of shoppers, heading straight for the closest department store, "This way." I called over my shoulder but had lost sight of him. "Shit" turning to see which way he had gone, I began to panic. "I'm right here." he nudged me, coming up from the other side and I jumped, "Oh thank God - I thought you were swallowed up by the crowds. I'd never be able to find you." He smiled, "You were worried about me?" he asked teasingly and I tisked, "More like worried about being blamed for losing the most famous artist who ever lived." His cheeks warmed and he flashed a dazzling smile, absorbing the scale of the comment before I grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the entrance of the store, "Come on Wunderkind - keep up this time." 

By noon, it felt as if he had tried on every article of clothing in the store. Sweaters, shirts, jeans, dress pants, every combination possible. I must admit that I was having fun playing dress up, but after 3 hours I was tired. "Ok Wolfgang can you please just pick something?" I begged from the bench outside the change room, I heard the small lock click and he came out wearing an ensemble of his choosing. "I think this is a good start." He held out his arms and twirled around dramatically in front of me, a navy button front cable knit cardigan with a large rolled collar over a dark collared shirt and grey khakis. Of course he liked the expensive business casual pieces, seemingly zeroing in on the luxury brands rather than my suggestions which were far more economical. "Yes, it's very nice. But please, can we be done now?" I whined at him, checking my phone for the time, "It's lunch time - let's take this stuff to the cash and then go eat. I'm starving!" He inspected himself in the mirror and then turned back to me, "Would this be considered fashionable?" Oh Lord, vanity was largely important to this small man!

"Yes. Absolutely. Very, country club chic." He nodded, not likely understanding the comment but he did seem to understand it was good thing. Confirming his choices in the full length mirror before going to pick out a few more of his favourite pieces from the piles of rejects he had tried earlier, he smiled at his own reflection. After bringing the chosen pieces to the counter and ringing up the total at the cash I nearly passed out, almost five hundred dollars, "Jesus Wolfgang, rob a bank!" I scoffed, swiping my credit card - he'd have to pay me back for this. Somehow. The cashier placed the bags into his hands with a quick Thank You, come again!

Stopping at the food court on our way back to the subway entrance, this time I allowed him pick his own poison, "Ok nothing with cheese this time..." He said absently as he scanned the myriad of options. "Most things have cheese Wolfgang" I sighed, how long was this going to take? "Ok this one!" he pointed at a burger place that had a mid-sized line and I shrugged, "Sure, go for it." After explaining what a burger was and then laughing hysterically as I watched him attempt to eat one, it certainly made up for the long morning in the fitting rooms. "That was the most delicious thing I've ever eaten." He sighed contentedly, relaxing on the subway on the ride home, "Ya, burgers are pretty popular in all countries but they're kind of an American phenomenon."

"Who knew I'd love the New World so much!" He dug through some of the shopping bags, admiring his new clothing. "So soft..." he mumbled to himself, fingering the knit fabric of his sweater, "Thank you for all of this by the way." He looked to me with a soft expression, "I don't know how I'm going to pay you back for everything." I paused thoughtfully for a moment, noting a small twinge in my stomach when I met his expressive blue eyes, I shook off the feeling and looking quickly away I shrugged, "I'm not sure either, so just enjoy it for now." Throwing my headphones back on, my mind began to wander. He certainly was sweet, and I felt sympathy for him - having to navigate all this modern stuff, I couldn't imagine it. The poor guy doesn't even know how to make toast! I chuckled and shook my head at the memory from this morning - Wolfgang looked at me curiously, probably wondering what was so damn entertaining, but he did not intrude, he only observed quietly and left me to my thoughts.   
As the train jostled along the tracks we continued to sit in comfortable silence, lulled by the rhythmic chugging of the car on the tracks. A few stops before home I felt his hand tentatively slip under mine, resting on the vinyl bench. At first I was unsure of the contact, was it an accident? I didn't dare turn to look for confirmation, and clearly nor did he. Keeping our eyes fixed ahead I smiled to myself and curled my fingers around his hand in response. From the periphery of my sight, I saw the corner of his smile twitch but neither of us acknowledged each the other. We separated respectfully when the trained stopped and we disembarked, walking in silence the rest of the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where I am going with this...so I'm just gonna keep rolling!


	4. Chapter 4

That afternoon I set out to practice for my upcoming graduation recital. A short program that featured standard solo works from the horn repertoire. Of course this meant at least one Mozart. This year my teacher was adamant that I prepare the third concerto as it was so regularly called for on symphonic audition lists. Having begged against it stating that I had prepared it for other teachers in the past, he simply wagged his finger at me, "Listen, everybody thinks they can play Mozart 3, but the truth is - it's damn hard and people usually play it like shit. If you can master this piece, that will truly impress an audition panel. Excerpts are one thing but everybody knows the Mozart is a ball buster." I replayed his comments in my mind as I sat in front of the familiar music on my stand. The seemingly simple opening, the tonally interesting development relying heavily on a modulating arpeggiated section, was it really so tough? High school horn players could prepare this, and it was on practically every music school's audition list. 

I began with my warm-up, long tones followed by lip slurs and some easy scales. At this point, I could hear the water running in the shower, I felt it was safe to practice while he was distracted. Diving right in to the slow second movement, I failed to noticed when Wolfgang finally appeared some time later in his new sweater and slacks, leaning against the door with his arms folded across this chest. "Brava" He offered quietly when I took a moment to empty out some water from my horn and I jumped, not expecting him to have been listening. "What is that?" He entered the room, peering curiously over my shoulder at the manuscript on the stand. 

"Are you serious?" I frowned, only the most important music for horn ever written, by you - you fool. He picked up the pages gently and scanned them, "It's good writing" he acknowledged. I laughed, "I should hope so." I said, plucking the pages from his hands and placing them back on the stand, "It's yours!" He narrowed his eyes at the notation, titling his head curiously at it. "You must be mistaken, I have not written a first horn concerto, let alone a third!"he snorted and I sat back, looking at the page in front of me. Perhaps it's true as he is only 26, I couldn't even tell you the year this concerto was written, so he could be on to something.

"Well I can assure you, it's yours - and it's very popular." I passed him the piano accompaniment for further inspection, "Originally for orchestra but most people play it with piano today. It's something almost every horn player learns, universally." He leafed through the book, smiling to himself, "This is most bizarre, I have no recollection of this piece whatsoever." Placing it on the ledge of the old piano, he slid onto the bench and tentatively played the opening few bars of the exposition. "It could be that you haven't written it yet." I said, whipping out my phone and quickly Googling the Kochel catalogue. "It's darling." He grinned, playing through sections of the other movements out of curiosity, "Ya, according to this - it says you wrote this in 1787 for your friend Leutgeb. Does that sound right?" He turned to me from the bench taking surprise at hearing the familiar name, "I wrote a concerto for Leutgeb?" I shrugged, raising my eyebrows questioningly, "That's what the history books are saying." I wagged my phone at him as proof. 

"Well let me hear it!" He demanded excitedly, "Play from the beginning - the first movement." Oh boy, I didn't know if I was ready for that. Playing for the composer himself, a piece that he wrote but didn't recognize, on top of the fact that you know... he's technically dead.   
"If you really want, but don't judge me ok?" I blushed picking up my horn, suddenly feeling extremely insecure. "Oh don't worry, I've already done that" he winked cheekily and my mouth dropped open, "Wolfie!" he simply laughed and turned back to the piano beginning with the introduction, playing with a level of mastery as if he had done so a thousand times before. I had no choice but to shrug him off and play.

After an hour of rehearsing and laughter, I begged to put the horn away. "Ok ok, I'm done - no more." I said, definitively disassembling the instrument and tucking it safely back into the case. "You're rather good you know? Maybe I should've written this concerto for you instead of silly old Leutgeb." He closed the score and handed it back to me. "Thanks, but that's not what my teacher says." I scoffed, "There's always room for improvement." I said in a mock voice, parroting my teacher's favourite phrase. Mozart frowned from the bench, watching me pack up my sheets. "I suppose that's true..." he traced patterns on the wood of the bench absently.

"It was fun having you play the accompanying part though - it really helps when you're making music with someone else. Accompanists are so expensive I usually only get to play with one right before the recital, so it's nice to get that extra practice time." I walked over to the piano, sliding my hands silently over the keys, "I'm not that good at piano so I'm always amazed when people can just sight read like that." Smiling to myself thinking of the ridiculousness of that comment I added, "Even when they are the ones who composed the piece being sight read...." Mozart stilled my wandering hand, encasing it in his own, "You're a fine musician. All of Vienna would be fighting to have you in their orchestra." Letting him have my hand perhaps longer than I should have, I smiled down at him and he returned the gestured. "You're sweet to say that, but times are different now. There are dozens of players just like me, and even better. I don't even know if I'll get a job when I graduate, but that's a whole other story." I muttered, pulling my hand back.

"I would be honoured to play for you again, if ever you would like." he stood, pushing the bench back and stepping towards me reaching for my hands again, I squirmed uncomfortably when he kissed them. "Thank you?" I choked awkwardly, not knowing what to say to his offer or about the fact that he was clearly inching nearer, "That is, if you feel that I am worthy of accompanying you?" he pressed forward, closing the ever smaller distance between us and drawing my hands to his chest. My breath quickened and my eyes darted about like a prey animal about to be swallowed alive, he however, remained calm. His deep blue orbs were fixated on me, framed by his soft blonde lashes. Dexterous hands gently squeezed my own and he ran his thumb over my knuckles soothingly. "Of course..." I stammered in weak response, the small twinge from earlier had festered into a full blown nest of knots in my belly, beating against my middle - threatening to give my emotions away. "Good." He released my hands and slide his hands up to cup my cheeks, pressing our foreheads together. I instinctively closed my eyes, too afraid to meet his smouldering gaze. "Bella" he whispered in soft Italian and ran his thumbs over my parted lips, which were dry from the adrenaline. I squeezed my lids shut, trying to resist the urge to give into him right there. He was the first to fall as he pressed his lips against mine, dropping his hands to the nape of my neck and pressing himself fully against me. A small whimper escaped me as I felt his body crushing against my own, ready with aching need. Panting when we broke apart, we stared at each other in silent conversation. Saying nothing, I finally turned and left the room, turning to back over my shoulder as if to ask, are you coming? He flashed a wicked grin and quickly abandoned the music on the ledge of the piano and followed suit.

Once in the darkened comfort of my room, I shut the door behind him. "Come" I crawled onto my bed and held my hands out for him and he took them without hesitation, kneeling on the soft duvet. "I don't think you'll need this" I bit my lip and unbuttoned his heavy knit sweater, pushing it back over his shoulders and he happily allowed me, silently watching me work on the buttoned top underneath. "Or this..." I continued his disrobement. "And what about you" he said quietly as I picked the buttons loose on his cuffs, I paused and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "What about me?" I countered suggestively, finally ridding him of the top, seeing his pale bare skin for the first time.   
"I think it's my turn" he whispered, crawling close enough to straddle my knees as I knelt on the soft bedding facing him. "This..." he traced his index finger down my arm, tugging at the cuff of my sleeve, "we won't need." I grabbed the hem of my cardigan and pulled it quickly over my head, tossing it aside. His eyes widened briefly, "That also works" he laughed softly, running his hands over my bare shoulders, inspecting the lace contraption strapped to my chest. "I love modern women already" he said exasperatedly, thumbing the cups of my push-up. I shivered lightly when he unknowingly grazed a lace covered nipple in his explorations of the modern underwear. "How does this work?" Reaching around I unsnapped the clips and wriggled out of it, "I see..."he whispered as I held it up loosely for him and he grinned, crawling over me as I lay back on the pillows. 

I reached up and pulled him down to me and began to explore his mouth tentatively as I felt his hands begin to wander, stroking my sides, my chest and drawing lazy lines across my belly. The feather soft touch made my hairs stand on end and I shuddered when he cupped my bare chest, breaking apart for air. "You are beautiful" he murmured in my ear as he fiddled with the button on my jeans trying his best to understand the zipper, shoving his hands away I took over, "Like this - watch." I unbuttoned the fly and shimmied out of them, tossing them unceremoniously on the floor to join my sweater. He sat back on his heels for a moment, just staring. "Are....are you ok?" I began to get nervous laying so exposed under his serious expression, was there something wrong? He shook his head no and crawled back to resume his place, "You're simply stunning, I had to take a moment to appreciate you fully." He ran the tip of his nose along my neck and nipped a little trail to the base of my shoulder. I arched up to him and he responded, pulling my arms above my head and holding them firmly. Again, he stopped abruptly and gave a strange look, "What?" I frowned nervously. 

He released my arms and ran his hands down to my underarms, stroking the bare skin there. "There is nothing - I mean...how is there?..." He stumbled for the appropriate words, "We shave Wolfgang. Women shave unwanted hair now, our arms, legs and... you'll see." I glanced down with a soft blush and guided his hands to the waist band of my lace boy shorts. Taking my invitation, he tugged the bottoms away and grinned to himself. "Ya, that too." I shifted uncomfortably under his eyes, "You still with me?" I kidded in a feeble attempt to break the silence, "Absolutely" he stroked my bare legs appreciatively, revelling in the smooth sensation. I reached for the waist of his trousers and began to work on the belt and button, he stood to remove them completely, and turning to me sheepishly in his new trunks he asked quietly, "And these as well?" I bit my lip and nodded, rolling on to my side and propping myself up, enjoying his awkward divesting. Even in the darkness I could sense the flush on his face as he joined me on the bed, stretching out bedside me, practically nose to nose. "I think we're going to need one more thing" I said as I pulled away and rolled over, fumbling through the bedside table, he sat up to watch me search curiously. "Ah ha!" I waved the foil packet triumphantly, "Perfect" he stared at me with a baffled expression. "This is for you." I pressed it into his hand, "And I guess, a little for me too." He looked down at it cautiously, before I took it back from him "I'll show you."

Tearing open the package I took his hand in my own and guided him through the process, he twitched nervously as our hands rolled the condom to his base. "There. No babies and no mess. Always use one." he blinked at me as I kissed his nose quickly and flipped him on his back, straddling his thighs. His eyes widened in sudden shock of his new position, "You don't mind being on the bottom do you Wolfie?"grinning, I traced a line down his middle, stopping just short of anything exciting. He shook his head enthusiastically no. "Good boy." I smirked, leaning over him to devour his mouth hungrily as I lowered myself down on him. He bucked and thrashed at the sensation, I flattened my hands on his chest to steady him and stoked his cheek, hushing him "Just relax." 

Wordlessly I began to rock back and forth and a soft groan escaped his parted lips. His hands were soon gripping my thighs as they straddled his sides. The more he wriggled, the slower I went, drawing out the delicious torture. Eventually he was damp with sweat and practically panting with need. I smiled to myself satisfactorily, "Ok, let's switch" I whispered in his ear and rolled off to the side nonchalantly. Glancing over at him, he had practically melted into the linen. "Oh God" he gasped in a pant, trying to catch his breath, "Come on Wolfie we're not done" I tugged his hand lazily and he complied, rolling over to me, dragging himself between my thighs. I cupped his face gently and kissed him, "Show me your worst" I winked at him as he steadied himself, shyness lost. 

Once in rhythm he worked at a steady tempo, pressing his forehead to mine and closing his eyes. I ran my fingers through his sandy hair, tugging roughly in appreciation of his vigour, and he dug his fingers harder into the soft flesh of my thighs that wrapped around his waist. With his breath quickening, I knew he was close as his thrusts became desperate until he finally stiffened and his belly tensed. With a soft whimper, his efforts spilled out and he collapsed with a great sigh nearly knocking the air right out of my lungs. We lay in a daze like that for a moment as I stroked his hair, smiling to myself, "You've done this before I take it" I raked my fingers against his wild mane and he looked up at me with a cheeky twinkle, resting his chin on just above my belly button.

Pausing to ponder his response carefully, he replied, "That's a gentleman's secret, but I think I could ask you the same question, no?" I scoffed in mock offense and wriggled onto my side, diving under the blankets. "Well, a lady would divulge such things would she?" I turned my back to him, cocooning under the covers. "Hm, perhaps..." he dug up the covers for himself and sidled up against my backside, "A true gentleman would never ask, he would just lay here in worship of his beautiful conquest." he kissed my bare shoulder, "And I think, as a true lady I would allow that"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah - it happened

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated - not sure where I am going with this one but I felt the urge to write it.


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